


Anything For You

by Anonymous6285



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Belly Rubs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Or romantic, Platonic Relationships, Sickfic, it can be read as either - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28442556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anonymous6285
Summary: Ringo finds George after he's had too much to drink one night.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28
Collections: Starrison Holiday Gift Exchange 2020





	Anything For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuirkyTumbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuirkyTumbles/gifts).



> Thanks CelesteFitzgerald and Rufusrant for setting this all up!! it's been great :))) 
> 
> QuirkyTumbles, I hope you like it :) and happy holidays everybody :D

Ringo pulled the hotel key out of his pocket as he walked down the hallway in the dead of night. The pounding in his head made him wish he had left the bar earlier than one o’clock, because drinking was like stealing happiness from tomorrow. But he never listened to the reasoning in his brain. 

As he neared the door to his and George’s room, he positioned the key in front of him and stuck it into the hole, turning it anticlockwise. The door handle pushed down, and he allowed himself into the room, quickly closing and locking it behind him.

And then he heard a sniffle. It was so small that nobody probably would’ve guessed that it had come from anything other than a little kid. But he wasn’t sharing a room with a little kid. He was sharing a room with George.

There were more sniffles, so he took off his coat, not thinking as he threw it onto the floor and hurried around the corner to where their beds and kitchen were. He found nobody, so he crept into the bathroom. “George?” he muttered to let the guitarist know he was on his way in. “George, what’s the matter?”

“Richie, you should just go to bed. It’s already late.” He groaned, and Ringo stepped further in to see that he was sitting on the floor in front of the toilet.

“Have you been sick?” he whispered with care in his voice, and George shook his head. “You know it’s alright if you have been, right? I know Brian’s been stressing you out about a lot of stuff lately, but--”

“I said I’m fine, Rich! Just… just leave it.” His deflated tone kept Ringo standing in the doorway instead of leaving. He knew something was definitely up. “I haven’t been sick, though. Just for the record. Just had too much to drink. I’m afraid I might.”

“Oh…” Without warning, the drummer got down on the floor next to him and wrapped an arm around him. The other one started to creep down onto his stomach, and he squirmed uncomfortably.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you felt sick. Your stomach hurt?” George nodded hesitantly. “Then let me help it feel better.” He snuck his hand up the younger man’s shirt and started to rub the small spot just below his belly button. George jumped at the cold contact but relaxed into it soon after.

“I’m so sorry about this, Richie.”

“About what, love? I don’t think you’ve done anything, have you?” He hummed, leaning into Ringo’s chest.

“I’ve been a bother…” He seemed almost embarrassed at it, so Ringo pulled him even closer to himself. 

“No, you haven’t. You’re not the only one that had a lot to drink, okay? I’m just trying to make your stomach hurt a little less.”

“Can I help you?” Ringo tilted his head to the side, and George could sense the confusion in his silence. “I mean… if you’re helping me, do you think that I could help you feel better, too?”

“You don’t have to do anything for me, Georgie--”

“I want to, though!” 

“You already are, Geo…” George pulled his head off of Ringo’s chest and looked up at him, his shaggy fringe hanging in front of his eyes. “Just being here with me and getting through this tour. It’s more than enough knowing you’re doing alright.”

The guitarist fell back into him and sighed. “Are you… are you doing alright, Richie?”

“I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“So you’re not yet?” No answer. “You’re my best mate, Rich. You know I’m always here, right?” Ringo nodded. “Thank you.”

“No, love. Thank you.”


End file.
